


Where You Want to Belong

by dailyanimefics



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: Adorable Eren, Eren hates America, Fights, Japanese Levi, M/M, Masturbation, Modern AU, OC, School Trip, Seme Levi, Set in America & Japan, Stalking, Uke Eren, american eren, bilingual Eren and Levi, exchange student Levi, levi's fanclub, snk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyanimefics/pseuds/dailyanimefics
Summary: Eren Jeager wants to live in Japan. Levi Rivalle is an exchange student from Japan. Eren goes on a trip to Japan. Coincidence? Read to find out~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'llo! Thank you for your interest in my fan fiction! I'm not good at writing and this is my first, so I hope you can enjoy this and PLEASE correct me in the comments if I make a mistake or if you have any ideas for the story! This fan fiction has also been posted on Wattpad, and the basic plot is based on my experiences in real life! (Without the romance, of course ;-; I am the loneliest been) Anyhoo, please enjoy! \\(^•^)/

Ch.1 (In)Pure Curiosity

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Eren Jeager's story all started when he received the acceptation letter for a class trip to Japan. It was strange, because he had taken a German class; not Japanese. Although it did make  
some sense because he had been invited to join the Japanese class, but had politely declined because he was already fluent. Eren's Japanese stepfather, Eiyo Mika, who was married into the family after Eren's father ran away in pursuit of illegal steroid studies when he was four, only spoke Japanese around the house. It confused Eren's mother, Carla, at first, but she began to enjoy the foreign language after his stepfather explained that it would be a wonderful learning experience. Eren, with the mindset of a preschooler who had just begun to write half a year ago at the time, had a rapidly expanding brain that took in everything he heard and saw, and he learned Japanese quickly, along with English. This was quite the convenience seeing as he was just invited on a trip to Japan. The Japanese teacher was Eren's stepfather's sister, or his aunt by marriage. She had been meaning to take Eren on a trip to Japan for quite some time, but never had the funds to with the small monthly teachers' pay she received. Thankfully, the Principal had decided that the "weaboos" of the school deserved to be treated nicely for once, and had applied to an organization called IFST, or International Foreign Student Travels, and Eren's school's application had been accepted with no problems. This organization only chose a few schools in the U.S. a year! Eren Jeager had no idea how, out of all the schools in his country, his had been chosen, because he had stayed up late many nights reading up on article after article explaining many schools' worldwide achievements. The only large feat that his High School had accomplished was winning the state varsity football championships. Although he'd have to admit that the large trophy on display in his 8'th grade level math class -even though he was a freshman- (his math teacher was also the school's football coach) had brought somewhat of a sense of pride to his overly established hatred to his school. In fact, it wasn't just Eren's school that he hated, it was America in general. Eren, thanks to his stepfather that treated him with perfect kindness every day, had grown up practicing Japan's way of life, traditions, history, eating the country's many foods, gaining a tolerance to shredded pig ears even though he used to be allergic to the seasonings incorporated in the dish, etc. To put it simply, Eren had gotten used to being raised in the way of the Japanese, and every time he went out of the house to do just about anything, he was appalled by the way people treated each other. If Eren spilled  his coffee in front of the very shop that he bought it from, the employees would stand and watch as he cleaned it up himself. Eren had experienced this many times before. Not just with coffee. He himself happened to be a pretty clumsy human being, and living in America made that part of Eren no better to endure. This is one reason why he loved hearing stories from Eiyo about the time when he had lived in the world where people would return your wallet if you lost it, help you pick up each and every ¥ coin you drop and compensate you if they couldn't find one, and incessantly ask you if you were okay and help clean up when you spilled your miso soup. This world, otherwise known as Japan, was a world that Eren desperately wanted to live in. He was tired of the unsanitary and the what can only be named as crude and unhealthy way people lived in America. He already fully knew the entire language, religion, and traditions of the large Island, so why not just move now? It didn't matter if Eren stood out from among the sea of black-haired, 150cm people; he hated being just another face in the crowd here anyways. Besides, Eren had quite the kink for Japanese boys, and who wouldn't? They've got 'the jaw', smooth skin, some have height, but he'd be fine with shorties, they're adorable! Those brown eyes that they sported were just as yummy looking. Speaking of Japanese boys, Eren's only comfort each and every day in this terrible country resided at the very school he despised. That comfort was in the form of a 5'3", sleek black undercut, stone-eyed Japanese exchange student that stayed for a month last semester. His name is Levi Rivalle. Every time Eren looked at the many stalker photos that he had taken of him during lunch during the time he was attending his sorry excuse for a school, Eren practically purred with contentment. Levi had a slim but definitely firm build from what Eren could tell from the tight dress shirts with a napkin-looking collar he wore each day, had an under shave that made his platinum cat-like eyes stand out even more than they already did, making it look like he regularly applied eyeliner, and light barely tinted lips that were thin and always seemed to have either a smirk, a frown, or a full-blown snarl of death aligning them. Although that didn't stop Eren from wanting to bite and suck those perfect lips for eternity. In fact, that was in the top ten list of things he loved observing the most about the hot-headed man that barely cleared five feet. Eren's personal favorite was when Levi flashed a smirk to the now-hospitalized Juniors who didn't understand Japanese. Eren had often caught Levi (with his camera, of course) hanging around two very large upperclassmen named Bertholt and Reiner, the very Juniors that were now hospitalized and not to return until Levi leaves the school due to trauma. Now, at least, Nobody would be calling Levi short anymore. The half smile that changed nothing about the black haired man's complexion besides his lips, the popped hip, and the crossed arms that Levi displayed when talking to those Juniors was perfectly dreamy. That very attitude is the one Eren often imagines in his sleep, and the one he most enjoys seeing in day dreams when the lesson in class isn't particularly interesting. By "imagining in his sleep", of course it means that Eren has reoccurring sexual night visions about the man; and who wouldn't? He's got a fan club for Christ's sake! Eren has heard all too many times the way that the band of squealing girls and admiring males talk about Levi, whom Eren likes to call "sex on legs", and by hearing those stories about him lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat in third period physical education class to reveal an eight-pack, or about the way he flat out refused to dance with anyone during the ballroom dancing unit, Eren can't help but imagine what it would be like if he could ever be lucky enough to dance with the man; although it might be a tad bit hard considering he's only 5'3". It would also be very arousing if Levi ever pinned him down onto any surface imaginable and impaled him until he's raw with the repeated force of those strong muscles working to pound and rub deep inside of him. Of course it felt wrong to have such lucid thoughts about the cold hearted seventeen year old, but he couldn't help but imagine what types of things lie under the surface of that stoic, uninterested facial expression. Besides, Eren's sure that almost every girl in school stalked him and got absolutely wet like he did when he heard Levi speak in that dominating voice of his that made everyone around him weak in the knees. There was more than one occasion where Eren got too close to the group that Levi was in and was spotted, Levi's eyes on him as cold as ice, a slim brow raised in what Eren thought was annoyance, but hoped was curiosity. It was hard to tell with that chiseled face of his. Eren was so startled every few times that this happened that a bulge began to grow in the area that was second on his list of wanting Levi to touch. This was when he usually ran to the school bathrooms, leaving Levi staring after Eren quizzically, and pumped one out in those stalls that needed to be cleaned even more now. He was starting to consider either wearing one of those uncomfortable cups to school, or just trying to hold back his urge to present his ass to the sex god that stood just around the corner. Maybe save it for the bedroom? Ah, yes. Speaking of bedrooms, in Eren's, almost every night, he would mindlessly stare at the 412 photos of Levi occupying his phone's gallery, until he had memorized exactly what time of day he had taken the picture, and what clothes Levi was sporting that day (it didn't hurt to use up a couple of tissues and fingers while he was at it as well). Eren knew that it's stalkerish, he definitely knew. But he hadn't followed him to his homestay house while he was here, so it isn't that bad, right? Wrong. Apparently it's illegal to have stalker photos on your phone without the other's permission. Damn it America. Damn it all to 地獄 (hell). Eren was soon found out about the hundreds of photos on his phone's gallery and was forced to delete all but two of his favorites when Carla decided to scan all of his gallery photos off of his phone and onto her family computer to make space for the Japan trip. Thankfully, Carla understood the need for these types of things when you have a crush; she did the same thing to Grisha back in her college days. Even if Eren's mother is understanding, though, that was his most prized masturbation material. 'Grrrrrreat.... Now I have to take more.' He thought while subconsciously rolling his eyes back in an act of defiance. Carla merely giggled at the gesture. She, unbeknownst to Eren, already had quite an idea of what he does in his room almost every night, and, once again, she understood. She herself became just a bit flustered at the well-taken stalker photos of the Japanese Junior. But then again, she had married a Japanese man, so it all made sense. Carla did suggest printing a few colored copies of the photos to have in Eren's room for "special reasons" at one point, and he blushed furiously from his shoulders to his ears. How could Eren's mother have known about his nightly "activities"? He thought he hadn't made any noise at all! Eren looked down at the floor ready to throw all sense of pride away for a couple photos with fists clenched and face pink, and squeaked out a "No..." against his mind's will. In truth he wanted them. He wanted to say yes so desperatley. His every night wouldn't be complete without a bottle of lube, a couple of fingers up his ass, a picture of Levi displayed on his overly bright phone screen, and his face in his pillow, holding back his moans. Carla had already perfected the art of learning how to read Eren's face when he lied (more like his bright red ears), and had already decided to print out two of his favorite photos on shining poster paper. Carla handed them to Eren with a wink that said: "Go have fun, but don't be too loud, these walls are paper thin! Maybe two pillows this time?" Which only made Eren blush impossibly redder and run off down the hall with a very loud "THANK YOUUUU!!" Once all Eren could hear was the pounding of his footsteps and not his mother's high-pitched, girly laughter, he decided he was at a safe enough distance down the hall to check out the photos, and, sure enough, these were his absolute favorites. The first one was the one Eren took while Levi was rolling up his sleeves, beginning to wipe off the seat and table tops of the lunch table he was about to sit at. Eren couldn't blame him, America is nasty. He was also beginning to wonder if his dream man was a clean-freak? He wouldn't mind though. It sounded quite attractive to him. The second photo was one where Eren had spotted Levi in a café while out buying gross American –full of GMO's and chemicals that will make anyone want to say "I only eat organic"– food. Eren noticed while snapping this picture that Levi enjoyed holding cups by the rim, and he liked that display of class. Levi also attempted to cross his legs often, but it seems 'something' got in the way, so he could only cross his knees just a bit. This picture was only his second favorite because his eyes were obstructed by his overhanging undercut, making it hard to tell if Levi noticed that Eren was taking stalker photos or not. Eren was walking down the hall at this point, eyes trained on nothing other than the two pieces of colored paper in his hands, when he bumped into his second favorite guy in the world, second to you-know-who. "ああ！ごめん！" (ah! Sorry!) Eiyo said. "すみません。" (excuse me.) Eren replied. After he straightened up from bowing, Eren noticed that Eiyo's eyes weren't on his own. This was polite to do in Japan, but being so familiar with his stepfather made acting polite seem strange at this point. Then he realized. Eiyo was looking at his photos of Levi. Eren quickly hid the stack behind his small waist and stammered out a quick change in subject, hoping to distract Eiyo from his very obvious stalker tendencies. "こ-こにちわ、エイヨ！げんきですか？" (H-hello, Eiyo! How are you?) Eiyo looked at Eren and smiled with crinkling eyes. "あれはレヴィライバルさんですか？" (Is that Levi Rivalle?) Eren froze. "レヴィさんしってる？" (You know Levi?) "ええ。あいつは私の友達の息子さん！" (Yes. He is my friend's son.) "彼は日本であなたをホストする学校に通っています" (He is attending the school that will be hosting you in Japan.)  
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	2. Ch.2 A Curious Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I'm back, and this time I bring with me a first person POV by Levi Rivalle himself! Enjoy kiddos! ;3

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A punch. Another punch. A round house kick. A side swing. How many was that now? I tried counting, but it all got lost. Funny, I'm usually a whiz at brain teasers. I stood up and wiped some drops of blood from my jacket with the small bottle of oxygen cleaning spray I keep handy in case of dusty bus seats. "Fucking shits should've kept their mouths to themselves. I'm not fucking four feet tall... I'm five foot three." I said sternly as though the two unconscious juniors Berdholt and Reiner could hear me in their state. Tch. Fucking bastards probably had their brains rattling in their skulls from the beating I just payed out. I smirked and walked over to my shoulder bag, taking out my phone. "Hmm?" I hummed at my phone screen now illuminated with notifications from what I like to call "those annoying brats who can't keep their boobs and dicks to themselves", a.k.a. my 'fan club'. I scrolled down the list; my index finger making a tapping noise as I went further down. Guess I need to cut my fingernails. I kept scrolling mindlessly. Nope, nothing. As expected, it was just the usual "Marchel"or "Katy" or the other 500 that messaged me weird texts in Japanese such as "今日私はあなたの腕に触れることができますか？" (Can I touch your arms today?). God damn. The thirsty leeches had to have used Google Translate for this repulsive shit. Their so called "conversational skills" when they attempt simple Japanese around me usually results in me smirking; and not because I find them funny or fun to hang around. These guys need serious help. Don't they know that I can speak English fluently? I switched off my bothersome notifications in settings and stuffed that old phone into my bag. Too bad you have to worry about thieves here, or else I would've had that thing in my back pants pocket. I made sure my backpack was zipped up, and then I started walking at a bit of a fast pace. Once I got a steady stroll going, I gazed at the passing cars that usually contain my classmates on their way to school. Ah, once again, there's the triplets.... "HEEEEYYYY LEVIIIII!!!" Three blonde girls with their hair tied back in ponytails and shirts that violated every dress code on the planet rolled past screaming and waving out of their tinted Chevy windows. I rolled my eyes back into my head so far it hurt whenever those bimbos drove past me. I swear they didn't dress like that before I started attending this raunchy school. Almost half of the girls (and some guys) on campus are the same case. I don't care for getting into tiresome relationships or having anything to do with anyone else, so I don't stare at what other people call "beautiful" or "sexy" unless I think it is so, and that hasn't happened yet so far in my life. Can't I just go back home now? I tilted my head back to get a good, long stare at the just-risen sun before whipping my head back up and letting my raven undercut fall over my eyes to hide the dirty looks I give others every time they come within two feet of me. "It's just too damn early." I yawned. Something flashed in the corner of my eyes and I peeled away the gaze that I was holding with my sneakers and moved it over to whatever just caught the attention of my gray orbs. It was a bit hard at first, since what I was trying to look at seemed to have caught the first light rays of the day and was reflecting it. That light rippled and came to a bit of a loud, screeching stop before a pair of green/gray tennis shoes thudded onto the side walk beside it and stepped further away from the street to lock up the 'shiny thing', or bike as I have come to understand. Out of curiosity about the owner of the bike that will forever be named "Shiny Thing" and the strangely colored shoes, I slowly dragged my eyes up a pair of long, thin, white-jeaned legs, a rather bubbly and plump- looking ass (which grabbed my attention more than asses ever had, surprisingly.), a small waist that was covered in a long-sleeved teal sweatshirt that had a black undershirt stretching out of the bottom, up to wrists that were lightly tanned and adorned with a couple green string bracelets, a smooth, perfectly bitable neck and around it a shark tooth beaded necklace that had me licking my lips, and finally ending on a head of almost black, dark brown hair that seemed impossible to tame from the efforts that the mystery person was trying to put in to flattening a couple of straying strands. My gaze ran up and down that slim, perhaps 5'9" body four or five times before the person gave up on their mop of soft-looking hair, retrieved their backpack from the handles of their bike, swung it over their shoulders, and turned around. My. Jaw. Dropped. Who the hell is this kid and why does he look like a fucking angel that came to Earth specifically to bring me to my knees?! My breathing quickened and my heart began to beat wildly inside of my tightened chest. Of course, as with all my emotions, my exasperation only showed on my face in the form of open-mouthed, eyebrow-raised disapproval. This stoic face of mine is a curse I admit, but growing up in the slums and having all of my family and two friends killed really put a damper on my sensitivity to a situation. At least it gives me a reputation. The mystery beauty began walking and I swear I've never seen a strut so child-like and yet so alluring in my life. This boy (as I can now tell the gender, although there were some complications with that face and body of his.), had a marvelous slight tan to him, a light pink hue dusting his cheeks, eyelashes that make me have to try to convince myself that he doesn't apply mascara, puffed-out lips that were perfectly glossy and about as pink as his cheeks, thick eyebrows that looked well-groomed and were as dark as his hair (thank whatever god is up there; I hate dyed hair.), ears that his silky hair whooshed over with every step, a well-outlined jaw, and those eyes. What's up with them?!? God damn. This boy's eyes were huge! Suddenly I feel like I'm in an anime, and I don't even watch that shit.... I quickly stopped myself from imagining those large eyes staring up at me from a kneeled position on the ground.... If you know what I mean. *cue subtle wink*. As the boy whipped out his phone, I could tell why green seems to be his favorite color. Those gorgeous globes had the color of Okinawa's (basically the Japan version of Hawaii) sea. I took in a deep breath, but it was useless. It just got caught in my throat again. The reason why being, as soon as the slim mystery angel turned on his phone and entered a certain app, his eyes lit up brighter than the sunrise and the corners of his mouth turned up as far as they could go. I had to blink. What in the hell could make the brat light up like fucking Christmas? I stopped walking and tried to get a good sense of what the boy was looking at on his small phone screen across the street. It seemed to be..... a person..? Wow. What a reaction. I looked up to the boy's eyes again to find the most adoring and loving look reflected in those large eyes. It was so obvious that I almost saw his pupils turn into fucking heart shapes?! I whistled quietly in awe that someone could even make such a face. "Not bad." I mumbled to myself. As I started walking faster towards the school gates with my eyes trained ahead of me again, I noticed–out of my peripheral vision– that the beauty's eyes were trained on me. A few seconds later, his phone blocked my side view of his face, much to my irritation. Until I heard the click of a camera. I glanced to where the boy was squirming in silent alarm at having his ringer on while taking a picture. This is quite the surprise. I didn't know that this cutie was another one of my stalkers. Or... Maybe I'm wrong? In all possibility, he could have been taking a photo of the blonde "fuckboy" walking at an impossibly slow pace at least five feet in front of me. I grimaced. I guess I shouldn't be the one to judge other people's types, but this guy looked like he deserved the "Douche of the Year" award. The heavy amount of grease in the guy's hair made me want to hurl. "Fucking gross." I said loud enough for the guy to turn around and raise an eyebrow at me. I lifted a finger and he ran off quickly once he figured out who I was. Before I realized it, I was looking back over in the direction of the boy. Damn was that a mistake I'll never make again. He had that same loving look returned to his eyes, and at that moment I was absolutely, positively sure that I wanted that picture to be of me. After that morning, I started noticing that gorgeous creature wandering rather close to me. Be it around corners, behind trees, 'casually' heading the same way as me, etc. And he was always equipped with that phone. Something about that made me smirk in satisfaction. I was interested enough to learn more about this boy, but that had never happened before, so that part made me even more curious about him. My English partner, Mike, can tell basically anything about a person by their smell. At first I thought it was fucking disgusting to put your nose up to someone else, but even I wanted to rub my nose into those fluffy brown locks to find out which shampoo the mystery angel uses, so I didn't find it so repulsing this time around. After the boy came to our class a period too early, (apparently he has English in the same class I do, but in a lower level and a period after me) He had to recite his name and grade to the teacher so that she could make sure he wasn't lying. Score! Now I got to know the brat's name, and his grade, without Mike's help! That was a damn lucky coincidence if you ask me. Eren Jeager, the freshman, scurried out of the classroom in a blushing, stuttering flurry, making sure to glance in my direction at least 18 times before departing swiftly. I heard a couple giggles. I'm pretty sure I had death written across my face, because everyone in the classroom, including the teacher, shut up and remained that way for the rest of the period. Good thing I still have my "magic touch". I smirked devilishly. After class, I caught Eren scuttling back into the classroom with his head bowed in embarrassment. Eren. God fucking damn I am going to moan that name so hard tonight. Sure, I masturbate, same as all the males in my school, but I've never done it to the image of someone before, so this'll be a treat. I've tried doing so to this one actress that everyone in my grade was calling "hot" at the time. My "friend", or shall I say admirer and fucking imitator of everything I wear, Oluo, lent me a porn book for a night back in my freshman year. Long story short, I couldn't get it up. Not even half way. I was curious that maybe I was into guys instead, so I tried watching a video and instead vomited my guts out for the rest of the night. I'm almost certain that I burned that gruesome DVD. Back to the "topic of the day", Eren, I asked Mike about him. It looks like Mike doesn't know anything either, but he's willing to smell the boy to get me some information. "Why do you want this? Is he your next punching bag?" Mike inquired after agreeing to the job. "Look, Mike. I don't know either. But I'll assure you that I'm not interested in beating up some wiry runt." I spat in reply. My voice was laced with disgust. I'm sure Mike could tell by my "scent" that my disgust was not coming from the thought of touching Eren with my bare hands, but from the thought of even laying a single bruise on the kid. He was too genetically blessed and adorable for that. I walked with Mike to our next shared class, Science, in silence. It was a silence filled with unspoken questions from Mike, I'm sure. Hours later, I was sitting in my upstairs room at my home stay house when I got a message from Mike.   
SMS   
Mike: Levi. I have news. (Sent at 4:35PM)   
Levi: What is it, dog? (Sent at 4:35PM)  
Mike: I found Eren's sweater after school when I went into the English room to speak with the teacher. His scent was very heavily woven into the fabric. It must be old, but it still looks like it'd be at least 8 sizes too large on him. (Sent at 4:37PM)  
Levi: Good to know. Can that freaky nose of yours tell me anything? (Sent at 4:37PM)  
Mike: Of course. (Sent at 4:37PM)  
Levi: Well then get on with it, I don't have all damn night! Oh, and make sure to bring that sweater to school tomorrow and give it to me. (Sent at 4:38PM)  
Mike: Why would you need it? (Sent at 4:38PM)  
Levi: I have my reasons. Now just fucking tell me what you know before I block your sorry ass. (Sent at 4:39PM)  
Mike: You know blocking me would be of no benefit to you. It appears you need this information. (Sent at 4:39PM)  
Mike: Alright. So, from what I can smell, and from what others are telling me, he has a biological father that left when he was young, and a new stepfather married into the family who is Japanese. Now, because his stepfather only speaks Japanese around the house, Eren is fluent. It also smells like Eren is going on a certain trip to Japan next month, and he is attending your school for a week. However, he is not in the Japanese class. If you are interested in this boy, you might want to apply to host him in your home when he visits. Eren's classes are 1.Home Ec. 2.P.E. 3.History 4.German 5.English 6.Math. Eren is 15 years old, and it looks like he has a bit of a hatred for this country, although I'm not sure why. Eren has two friends, Mikasa Ackerman and Armin Arlert, but their smells are faint so it seems like he's been too busy with something else to hang out with them lately. Eren seems to have a crush, but their scent is not on here. Usually people who have a crush use something with their beloved's scent on here to 'relieve' themselves, but it smells like he couldn't get his hands on anything. Although that hasn't seemed to be stopping him from masturbation each night at least two times. He fingers himself, he plays with his chest, and he uses his dick. I'm assuming he also hides his face in his pillow because the scent of heavy breath isn't on here. He lives on 1268 Ringtail Ave. He doesn't play any sports, but he runs a lot. He goes to sleep early every night, and despite your suspicions, he doesn't wear makeup. I think that's all. (Sent at 4:50PM)  
Levi:.... (Sent at 4:51PM)  
Levi: So I'm guessing there's a different type of smell for someone who runs and someone who plays sports? (Sent at 4:51PM)  
Mike: Correct. (Sent at 4:51PM)  
Levi: .....Does he ever wash this thing? Fucking gross. (Sent at 4:51PM)  
Mike: Yes. Every night, in fact. But the detergent his stepfather Eiyo uses doesn't have much of a scent. (Sent at 4:52PM)   
Levi: Alright then. I think I'm just not going to mention how scared shitless I am about your abilities right about now. (Sent at 4:52PM)  
Mike: Levi is scared? (0-0) (Sent at 4:52PM)   
Levi: I couldn't find a better word to go with 'shit'. Go to bed, doggy. (Sent at 4:52PM)  
Mike: It's only four. I haven't eaten dinner. (Sent at 4:52PM)  
Mike: Levi? You there? (Sent at 4:55PM)  
Levi: There. Now it's five. Eat dinner then sleep, shitty mutt. (Sent at 5:00PM)   
Mike: As you wish, Master Levi. (Sent at 5:00PM)  
—Chat Closed—  
I set my phone onto my desk and swirled around in the chair. "Hmmm..." I smirked, my hand cupping my chin as I spun around. "Eren has a crush..." I trailed off. I set my foot down onto the carpeted floor, forcing the maneuvering desk chair to a sudden halt. I sat up straighter and picked up my phone, entering the call app and pressing my father's number. "And he likes it from the back." My smirk grew wider.


End file.
